“Have you spoken to Anne Marie recently?”
I immediately lost interest in the files I had in my hand and gave my full attention to the other end of the phone. Something in Donna’s tone told me this wasn’t going to be a pleasant conversation.
“I talked to her earlier this week. She had to cancel our appointment. Said she had a doctor’s appointment she forgot about. She skipped out, didn’t she?”
Donna sighed heavily. “Looks like it. I went up to her room to check on her and Noah two days ago, and it was empty. I didn’t want to call her cell because, well, you know.”
I did know. It wasn’t always the best means to contact a woman in Anne Marie’s position via her cell. Even though the shelter number would come up as “private,” chances were her husband was keeping tabs on her cell phone records. I’d seen that happen quite a bit. It was why workers at the shelter made sure to ask if the number they had was safe to call and leave messages at. I thought back to how Anne Marie sounded during our last conversation.
“She sounded frazzled the last time we spoke, as if she was in a rush to get off the phone. I just assumed it was because she needed to get to her appointment. Damn it! I should’ve seen the signs,” I chided myself.
“Come on, Chanel. You know better than that. We’ve been through this too many times. We do our best and we’re there when they need us.”
Donna’s voice helped calm my nerves. She’d been a social worker for more than twenty years and specialized in domestic violence. It wasn’t her first time having to make this type of phone call, I’m sure.
“I know, I know.”Hell, I’ve been there,I reminded myself, remembering how my own best friend couldn’t convince me to leave the person who was hurting me. “Okay, just know if you hear anything from her—”
“You’ll be the first person I’ll call.”
“Cool, and I’ll do the same.”
“All right, listen. Don’t beat yourself up about this. This isn’t on you.”
“I know. I just wished that made it feel a little better, you know?”
“Don’t I,” she quipped.
“I’m leaving work early, but my cell is always with me. Don’t hesitate to call if you need me, all right?”
“Sure thing. Go enjoy your weekend.”
Not likely,I thought as I considered the event that I was attending that evening. After hanging up with Donna, I grabbed a few work files, stuffed them in my briefcase and was on my way out the door. My final thoughts lingered on Anne Marie. I hoped she would be okay no matter what decision she’d made, but in my gut, I knew it wouldn’t be that easy. Very rarely do abusers ever see the ray of light and stop abusing without some type of major intervention.
****
A few hours later, I found myself taking in the décor of the Burke Planetarium. The theme for my father’s law firm’s gala was “an evening under the stars,” which made this the perfect location. The entranceway had been transformed to a catering space, allowing people to mingle. I smoothed the waist of my champagne-colored, sleeveless bodycon dress that stopped two inches below my knees. The dress had a split up the middle, about halfway up the thigh, giving it an alluring yet classy look. My hair was in its classic bob with a deep side part, giving one side a little more height than usual. I snagged a glass of champagne from a waiter who walked past. My goal was to make my presence known, say a few hellos, and leave as soon as possible. I looked around, noting a few familiar faces of those who worked with my father, or had in the past.
“You came!” a cheery voice greeted from behind me.
I smiled in spite of myself. “Hi, Marjorie. Yup, I showed.”
“I’m so glad you did. Your father told me he invited you, but I got the impression…” her voice trailed. She looked stunning in a long, fitted red gown that was also sleeveless with a split up to the knee. Her dark hair was pinned up with a few tendrils of curls falling around the sides of her face.
“You look beautiful,” she interrupted my thoughts.
“Thank you,” I stated, rubbing my hand down the side of my dress. “You look gorgeous.”
“Let’s see if we can find your father around here. The last time I saw him he, was…” She began shifting her head around, looking for my father.
I desperately wanted to tell her it wasn’t necessary to find him, but within seconds, she was waving him over. My face fell when I saw the man my father was speaking to. “Shit,” I mumbled under my breath. There was no avoiding either one of them as they walked toward me and a beaming Marjorie.
“Honey, look who made it. Doesn’t she look gorgeous?” Marjorie greeted as my father and his companion joined us. I could feel the sincerity in her words, and I wished my feelings matched hers. Despite myself, I found that I couldn’t hate Marjorie the way I wanted to.
“Hello, Chanel. Marjorie’s right, you look stunning. Doesn’t she, Lamont?” My father’s deep voice penetrated my thoughts.
I willed myself not to roll my eyes. Why’d he have to includehimin this conversation?
“Yes, she does,” Lamont answered.
